


Get Lucky (The Persuasive Education Remix)

by twicedefined



Category: James Bond (Movies), Skyfall (2012) - Fandom
Genre: Light Bondage, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-21
Updated: 2014-03-21
Packaged: 2018-01-16 10:34:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1344307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twicedefined/pseuds/twicedefined
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A certain double-oh is severely lacking in appreciation for the merits of a well-known French electronic duo. Q endeavours to remedy this, in a decidedly unorthodox manner.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Get Lucky (The Persuasive Education Remix)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lizardinexile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizardinexile/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Get Lucky](https://archiveofourown.org/works/883980) by [lizardinexile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizardinexile/pseuds/lizardinexile). 



> Hope you like it, bb!

James Bond was not normally a patient man. He preferred doing to waiting whenever possible. This was why, after striding into Q branch and being ignored by the quartermaster for all of thirty seconds, he yanked the cable of Q’s headphones from the audio jack. Expecting something like Mozart or Vivaldi, he was shocked by the ungodly assault that blasted from the speakers.

♪ _She’s up all night till the sun, I’m up all night to get some, she’s up all night for good fun, I’m up all night to ge—_ ♪

The sound was cut off, leaving a vacuum of silence in its wake. Around the room, various tech drones were grinning and shooting looks at the quartermaster that varied from surprised solidarity to barely-concealed amusement. Despite himself, Q’s cheeks coloured slightly. “Can I help you, agent?” he asked waspishly.

James ignored his tone. “What on _earth_ are you listening to?”

“Daft Punk.”

“Excuse me?”

Q frowned at him as though James could not possibly be any more stuck in the dark ages. “Daft Punk,” he repeated. “French electronic duo. Highly influential in the house and synthpop scenes. I in fact remixed a few of their works myself, in my younger days.”

James snorted. “You had _younger_ days?”

One corner of Q’s mouth twitched. “Perish the thought, I know. Now did you need something, or were you just here to make fun of my age?”

“Who says it can’t be both? And of course now I can make fun of your taste in music, as well.”

“Make fun of… for listening to Daft Punk? Oh really now agent, you _do_ need an update to your musical education. It’s the twenty-first century now, or hadn’t you noticed?”

James rolled his eyes. “So what is this latest masterpiece you’re listening to?”

“Their most recent single. Get Lucky.”

“Oh really?” James leaned in to hover over Q with a wolfish grin. “So if I play my cards right, do you think I might just ge—”

“Finish that thought, double-oh, and I shall personally see to it that you never get anything of the sort ever again,” Q interrupted drily.  “Now, what was it that you needed?”

#

That evening when Q got home, James had already let himself in. He was lounging on the sofa, watching some god-awful reality programme on the immense computer Q owned in place of a television. Q smirked. “And yet you have the audacity to take the higher ground when it comes to our respective tastes in media.” With a keystroke he muted the audio.

“I was watching that,” James complained without any real ardour.

“And that’s a fate from which I’ve now rescued you.” Q dropped a kiss on James’s temple. “Why not go make us a couple drinks?”

“Long day at the office, honey?” James quipped as he rose and walked to the bar.

Q smiled. “Not too bad. I did have an agent giving me a hard time about my music, though. No doubt a juvenile attempt at flirtation.”

James laughed. “No doubt.” He poured two tumblers of scotch, one on the rocks, one neat.

Q, meanwhile, was busy on the computer. He seemed to have pulled up a web page and was glancing through it, frowning every now and then, and when he did, he began to type. Finally, he made a small sound of satisfaction and beckoned James over. He took the neat scotch, pulled James down beside him onto the sofa, and gestured to the screen. “There,” Q said. “That should be correct for now, at least until the page is refreshed.”

James slid his gaze from Q to the computer, and nearly barked out a laugh at what he saw. “Oh come along, Q. You’re not actually still stuck on this Daft Punk business, are you? And Wikipedia? Really?”

“Both actually and really, Bond. And you ought to be stuck on it, too, if you know what’s good for you.” He leaned over to bring his lips to James’s ear and purred, “There will be a test.”

His voice alone was enough to make James’s cock twitch, but he knew better than to try to dissuade Q from whatever he had in mind. Instead, he diligently began to read, even as Q rose and James heard the tell-tale sounds of Q disrobing somewhere behind him. “I’ll be in the shower,” he heard over his shoulder. “Feel free to join me when you’re finished.”

James smiled at the pleasant images the words conjured, and sped up his perusal of the Wikipedia page.

When he at last entered the master bath, steam had already fogged up the glass of the shower, leaving Q’s shape indistinct and blurry under the spray. He opened the shower door as quietly as possible, but not quietly enough, as Q grinned and turned to face him, blinking his eyes open through the water. “I nearly had to get started without you, you know.”

James reached down to cup Q’s fully hard cock, swiping a thumb through the generous amount of precome already beading at the tip. “Feels a bit like you already did.” He leaned into the shower spray to nip at Q’s earlobe. “Not that I mind, per se.”

Q took a slightly unsteady breath and draped his arms over James’s shoulders. “Well thank goodness for that. I would so hate to upse-” The word broke off in a shaky moan as James began to stroke. For a moment, Q gave in to it, canting his hips and bucking slightly into James’s palm. Then he swatted James lightly on the shoulder and shimmied out of his grasp. “You know my thoughts on this, Bond. Showers are for getting clean.”

James gave him an unrepentant grin, and moved back into his space, licking a stripe up Q’s throat. “Then why not make sure we’re very, very dirty first? Hmm?”

Q groaned. “Only you would think you could get away with a line like that, double oh seven.” He thunked his head against the shower wall as James bit the junction between his shoulder and neck. “Fuck,” he breathed out in a whoosh.

“Mm. My thoughts exactly.”

“You can’t distract me forever, you know.”

“I am well aware,” James said against the nipple he was alternately biting and licking at.

“There _will_ be a test. Oh please, just like that. Fuck, _James_.”

“I have no doubt there will be,” James murmured into his ear, continuing to stroke Q’s cock at a punishing pace.

It wasn’t long before Q was coming with a small gasp, curling himself into the circle of James’s arms to pepper his neck and chest with kisses.

After a few moments, he drew back. “Now, what can we do for you?” 

#

“You planned all of this, didn’t you?” James ground out. His hands were tied to the slats of the headboard above him, while Q was curled up behind him on the bed, fucking into him in short, sharp thrusts.

“Hmm? Whatever gives you that idea?” Q asked evenly, not even sounding tired, as he drew his fingers lightly over James’s cock. “Surely you don’t suspect me of unfair play?”

“You’re damned right I--oh fuck, oh Q, please, please, more,” he babbled after an unerring thrust to his prostate.

“What was that, dear? I don’t think any of this has been in answer to my perfectly simple question.”

James growled. “1997. _Homework_ was released in 1997.”

“Very good,” Q said, sounding truly delighted. He grasped James’s cock firmly in a lube-slick hand and gave him three blessedly sweet strokes, then stopped, resuming his light teasing.

James bit back a muffled sob. “Q, please, I—I need—please—”

“Hush, hush, love. You’re doing so well. Let’s try another. Here’s an easy one. What was Daft Punk’s first single to make number one in the UK?”

James felt ready to explode with frustration. The teasing touches, the hits to his prostate, so good but not quite _enough_ , he could go mad with it.

Of course, he could always end it. Break the bonds holding him and bring himself off, or safeword out and let Q take care of him. But… Q pressed a kiss to the nape of his neck. “You’re doing so, so well darling. So perfect for me. Just a little bit more. You’re so close, you can take it. Now remember the question?”

James nodded and wracked his brain, but the words of the Wikipedia article seemed to swim in and out of focus. “One More Time?” he guessed.

Q drew back and delivered a stinging slap to James’s arse. “Try again please.”

“Digital Love?”

Another slap. “Once more.”

Memory came back in a rush, and he could have laughed at himself. “Get Lucky! It was Get Lucky.”

“Oh good boy,” Q murmured, and his warm hand was back around James’s cock, this time working him over fast and hard, in time with his thrusts. “So good I think I might just let you co—”

But that was all the permission James needed, and he was coming messily all over his belly, the sheets, and Q’s hand.

Q laughed softly, breathlessly, not an unkind sound. “I suppose I set myself up for that.”

James merely groaned.

Q kissed his ear, tugging slightly on the shell with his teeth. “I should be mad, but it’s just too good to feel you fall apart around me.” He reached up with one hand to untie James’s wrists. As soon as he had done so, James had him on his back. He stripped off the condom and swallowed Q down to the root, making him shout. It took no more than a few bobs of his head before Q was shaking and spilling down his throat.

After a few deep breaths, Q rolled over and grabbed a flannel and small jar of salve from the nightstand. He quickly cleaned up, then began rubbing the balm into James’s wrists.

“I don’t need that, you know. I’ve taken worse.”

“Oh hush.”

Soon they were curled up together, James’s head pillowed on Q’s shoulder while Q nuzzled his hair.

“How do you feel?” Q asked.

James smiled into Q’s shoulder. “Lucky.” 


End file.
